


Everything Will Be Alright, I Promise

by TonyStarkIsARobot



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gore, M/M, Tissue Warning, Violence, alpha pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:05:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyStarkIsARobot/pseuds/TonyStarkIsARobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Alpha Pack attacks and no one can stop them. Not even Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Will Be Alright, I Promise

**Author's Note:**

> First, I am SO FUCKING SORRY for this fic. Seriously. 
> 
> Second (once again) this was inspired by a picture from [Tumblr](http://sterek-stories.tumblr.com/post/39476458617/roncheg-i-wanted-to-draw-some-meaningless-cute).
> 
> I am a horrible person.
> 
> It keeps me awake at night.

They say that where there's a will, there's a way. But that's not always true. It can't be true. Otherwise... Otherwise Stiles wouldn't have the bleeding, battered body of his boyfriend in his arms.

Derek's got long, painful gashes across his abdomen, as if someone just sunk their claws in and ripped one way while he went the other. The front of Stiles' pants are soaked through with warm, sticky blood and it makes Stiles want to hurt someone. When the blood over saturates his pants, blood begins to run in tiny brooks down the back of Stiles' thighs. Bloody arms shake with the effort of holding Stiles close, most of the muscles in them torn and severed.

Stiles already knows everyone else is dead. He'd watched Isaac's head fall from his neck with an eerie sort of finality. Boyd's heart had fallen from his chest, rib cage ground to dust by the overwhelming power of a trained Alpha wolf. Erica had tried to run to Boyd - to save the man she loved - and ended up with her throat and much of her upper chest torn from her body for her troubles. 

Scott tried to run. He didn't want to be a wolf in the first place and he didn't want to die as one. Stiles had briefly entertained the idea of killing his best friend himself. He would have too, had Scott not thought better of his decision and gone straight into the foray. Scott lasted two minutes, by Stiles' count. Stiles still doesn't know exactly what made Scott come back.

Jackson and Lydia died together. Lydia had been caught and lifted into the air by the Alpha with red hair and brown eyes. In a valiant attempt to save her, Jackson bounded up a tree and tried to use the leverage to spring onto Lydia's attacker. As a human, Lydia was much easier to kill than Jackson. One hand sliced Lydia from ear to ear and the other crushed the entirety of Jackson's neck.

In mere minutes, Stiles' whole life came crashing down all around him.

The only reason Derek is still alive is because he's an Alpha. At least he can survive a little longer. It doesn't look promising though, what with the slow healing and all. One eye looks as though it's been severed in half, his arms are nearly useless, his... his intestines are bulging between Stiles' fingers as he tries desperately to contain them. To put them back where they belong. One of Derek's hamstrings is severed, and his shoulder has suffered nearly the same fate. His arm hangs down a few inches further than it should, rotator cuff shred to pieces and joint nearly completely dislocated.

Stiles doesn't really want to even think about the wet way Derek is breathing.

There are three pairs of red eyes watching him as he calms his severely injured love. 

That's right. There are only three Alphas. They took six Betas, an Alpha, and a human down and barely even broke a sweat.

It wasn't like Stiles hadn't tried to fight. He had. Stiles had a fully loaded, police-issue handgun at the ready and the aim to back up his wolfsbane loaded threat. Stiles stood on the back porch, shooting at the slightest clear glimps of Alpha. He was fast and accurate. But they were faster.

Not a single shot landed. He would have gone into battle with his pack - as he should have - but Derek demanded he stay on the porch. Lydia could fight alongside them because she was a catalyst for magic. She could do things not even Deaton could.

What was Stiles? Stiles was just a 'spark'. A tiny, wavering, flickering spark. Nothing special. Nothing exceptional. Just Stiles.

When Stiles attempted to run towards them, intent on using his intellect to save them, Derek barked orders at Lydia. Before Stiles knew it, Stiles was hitting the edge of an invisible barrier and watching as his friends got cut down, one by one. His fists beat against the barrier while he yelled and screamed and pleaded at them to just  _let him help!_  

Lydia was the last to die. She always had been stubborn to a fault. Consequently, Stiles wasn't released until the fight was over. Derek had already crawled through the mud, making the most heart-wrenching sounds by the time Stiles was free of his magical prison. Stiles immediately put his arms around Derek and dragged him backwards the final few feet to the porch. It hurt and the mud made it difficult, but this was Derek.

Coming back to the present, Stiles runs a hand through Derek's hair. The downpour soaked he and Derek to the bone and the night is chilly. Derek is cooler than Stiles can ever remember him being and it worries him. Stiles idly wonders why the Alphas hadn't charged him the second he was available. At this point he doesn't care. He's numb. Derek is whimpering and pressing his bloody face into Stiles' chest while Stiles holds his head to him with the hand not holding his abdomen together.

"Sti-Stiles I'm... I'm so sorry," Derek sobs against him. Stiles feels his abdominal muscles contract with the effort of making sounds.

"Shhh. Derek, don't worry. You're going to be fine. I promise," Stiles whispers, pressing a kiss to the bloody forehead beneath his chin. Stiles has never been one for mushy displays of affection. He's never tender, never much more than sarcastic in front of people.

But this is so much different. It's Derek and they're going to die. There's no point in holding back now.

"Stiles... I could-couldn't pro-," Derek coughs, "tect th-them... You. I'm so, so sorry." Stiles thinks tears have joined the mess of blood, sweat, and rain on his shirt and he presses another kiss to Derek's head. 

Through the rain, Stiles can see the Alphas watching with grins on their faces. Stiles knows they'll advance soon enough.

"Shhh. Derek it's alright. They fought hard. You fought hard. People die and it's a fact of life."

"But... Your dad... Th-their p-p-parents," Derek wails into his chest again.

"You let me worry about my dad, alright? Their parents will always love them. They won't blame you for a single thing because you did everything you could, alright? What do you have that the Alphas don't, Derek?" 

Stiles already knows what will happen to his dad. The Alpha pack will leave, having claimed the territory they wanted, and his father will find his body wrapped around Derek's like Romeo and Juliet with a few more casualties. He was just supposed to be sleeping over Scott's for the night. But that's never really been the truth, has it? His dad will be heartbroken. He'll start drinking again. He'll move out but never move on.

It's... Life. Life will go on without the eight of them in it. Not their lives, of course, but life nonetheless.

"Wh-what?"

"Me. You just remember that, Derek. You have me. Alright? You always will," Stiles tells him. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles can see the Alphas slowly coming towards them. They're stalking their helpless prey, Stiles knows. Stiles has exactly one bullet left but his gun is in the mud and it wouldn't be enough anyway. He just thanks whoever's listening that Derek doesn't notice them. He's got his eyes squeezed shut and pressed into Stiles' shirt.

For a split second, Stiles wishes Peter had lived through the summer. Apparently some very important werewolves weren't very impressed with his act of resurrection. At least Peter had died quickly, Stiles thinks. 

"Stiles, I l-love y-you," Derek croaks out.

"I know. I love you too Derek. Hey," Stiles says, nudging Derek's head lightly "look at me." Stiles gently leans Stiles back until Derek can partially look into his eyes. Derek lolls his head enough to see Stiles clearly through his one functioning eye. "I love you Derek. Nothing -  _nothing_  - will ever change that," Stiles affirms.

The Alphas are almost upon them and Stiles keeps himself calm. Inside, he wants to run. Panic. Hide. He's resigned himself to die with Derek and he has no regrets about that.

"Derek, I want you to close your eyes for me. That's it, just keep them closed, alright?" Stiles orders softly as Derek follows his command. The Alphas stop next to them and Stiles gives them a swift nod and a hard swallow in acknowledgement. He knows they're waiting - out of pity or chivalry, he doesn't know. "Good, Derek. That's good."

Stiles closes his own eyes and leans down to press a kiss to Derek's lips one last time. He tastes salt and mud and blood and Derek and-

And then the world goes white.


End file.
